


Oh, You Give Me The Chills

by yeethei



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Awkward Mark Lee (NCT), Lee Donghyuck | Haechan is a Little Shit, Lee Taeyong is Praised, Lee Taeyong is a Beautiful Man, M/M, Na Jaemin is a Good Friend, Scared Park Jisung (NCT)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:27:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeethei/pseuds/yeethei
Summary: When Mark Lee drags friends and fellow Wild Teens™ Na Jaemin and Park Jisung to a rumored haunted mansion, not much is expected. Maybe a couple clips of noises Mark can post to his ghost hunting YouTube channel. No story of ghouls or goblins could have prepared them for this.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60





	1. Walking Down a Darkened Hallway

Ghastly figures painted their lithe figures upon marble staircases, following a trail of frightening the beings dwelling within those royal rooms, welling up just enough to strike terror in the system. It was almost as easy as counting to the spirits, their routine becoming an almost shameful topic. 

Wasn’t like they wanted to breathe down the drenched necks of any victim, but, still, time allowed everything for them. Family didn’t show an option, no emotion derived from the depths of the always promised underworld. They seemed to die for nothing, almost. 

Considerably a sort of purgatory it was, haunting the floors, pipes, and all. No longer did the actions prove enjoyable, and figures spoke to one another in hushed tones, sultry possibly, in the privacy of the basement and such. Memories of the past lives they led rang out through glass minds; gowns, childish laughters, expression of angst. 

This was a practical way of a hotel, housing these undying souls, waiting for the right moment to appear once again.

Slipping around a corner, Mark stole the chance to take a breath. What exactly was he running from? Perking up, he listened to the sound of an animalistic figure coming closer, closer-

Knowing his luck, it was right behind him. A gentle exhale on the back of his neck brought him out of his haze, jumping. 

“Na Jaemin, if you don’t back off, I’m letting Renjun and Jeno know what you were up to last night.”

Another huff against his neck, weight coming to lean on his shoulder as tufts of bubblegum hair came into his peripheral.

“You’re really no fun, are you?”

Mark expertly hit Jaemin’s forehead, sending him back a few inches and almost making him drop the bat laying over his broad shoulders. 

Jaemin held his possibly bruised head, glaring up at the boy in front of him. How rude. 

“You know that making more noise could bring something unwanted out, right?” He whispered, rising softly from his seat on the floor. 

“Or is that what you want?”

Mark didn’t reply, as there was clearly something happening the floor above them. This is what he was waiting for all night. Swiftly, he moved toward the staircase, Jaemin following closely behind. 

“Mark, dude, where are you going?” He practically yelled, footsteps falling hard upon marbled stairs. This place looked heavily expensive.

Mark’s own footsteps were soft as a ballerina, trying not to scare off the entity he just knew was ahead. Closer, closer, and-

Jisung almost screamed as the two teenagers flicked on their flashlights, glaring at him intensely.

Mark sighed.

“Nevermind, Jaem. False alarm.”

Jisung had the nerve to look sheepish, shoulders shrugging down as guilt coursed through his body.

His usual baritone voice came out as an apologetic, “Thought I was walking lighter than that… Didn’t mean to make noise.”

Jaemin reached up to pat his shoulder, a soft sigh escaping from him. 

“It’s okay, Mark’s just on edge. He really wants to catch something tonight, you know? Right, Mark?”

Both of them looked up to see nobody standing at the top of the stairwell.

“Mark?” 

The cellar surely had to have something there to record.

Keeping his guiding light off, Mark creeped around the maze of corners. Completely on edge, his eyes were reddening as he refused to blink. 

A stereotypical chill snaked up his spine, shivers racking through him. The situation felt more and more like a horror movie. Was he really about to die? What if there was someone around the next corner?

“What exactly are we looking for?” 

That didn’t sound like his friends. Too nasally.  
Though he knew it was a bad idea overall, Mark turned around to make eye contact with a solid figure. 

Surprisingly, he didn’t scream. Bad timing. He simply took a deep breath and asked,

“Uh… Who are you?”

The being in front of him didn’t exactly look like a spirit. Fully colored, maybe a bit dirty, but still human looking.

A chuckle resounded through the hollow room.

“You don’t need to know my name. I’m a friend now.”

Now, Mark felt suspicious at this. He had heard stories previously of demons and ouija boards, the risks of communication with anything.

“What’s your name?”

The boy speaking pulled him out of his mind.

“My name is,”

A slight pause.

“Johnny.”

Nice move, Mark.

The (possible) spirit giggled at him, a hand coming up to cover his smile.

“You don’t need to lie to me, Mark.”

Mark glanced around him, looking for an out. This seemed to be going downhill rather fast.

“How did you know that?” His tone fell accidentally nervous.

The entity’s head nodded up, gesturing to the upstairs rooms.

“Heard your friend calling for you. Not much noise can be muted in this place.”

Mark nodded along like he understood, foot slipping behind him to put some more distance between them.

Mystery boy’s eyebrow quirked up for a second.

“You should go check on them. I hope they’re doing alright. Looked pretty scared last time I saw them.”

Just on time, Mark heard his name being called, along with heavy running steps down toward his location. 

Turning back, of course, the boy was gone.

Time almost paused until he felt Jisung shaking him out of it.

Jaemin kept looking at him, then down the hall, then back to him.

“Mark… What were you doing here?” He asked, tone worried and on the edge of scared.

“I-”

He cut himself off.

A gentle breeze washed over his skin, causing him to shiver again. It felt like fingers caressed his jaw.

Jisung looked like he was about ready to bolt, and Jaemin had already turned on his flashlight and started searching around the area.

Mark’s pricy camera laid on the floor, about twenty feet away.

Somehow, it remained unharmed, but the battery read drained.

The pink haired boy picked it up as if it was a bomb, eyes wide and terrified.

“Mark, what happened before we came down here? Before we called for you?”

Mark took a long, shaky breath. 

“I don’t know.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie.


	2. Everybody Turns to Look at You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark realizes things aren't always what they seem.

As far back as one could remember, Mark would never have considered himself a cowardly boy.

He was strong, open minded, as his mother had crooned years and evenings ago to him, brushing her delicate hand over his shaggy hair. He had cried into her jutting collarbone, as earlier in the day, an upperclassman had struck him across the face. Mark was only defending a friend of his.

¨It was the right thing to do!¨ Mark sobbed. His rebellious teenage mind told him it was, so, of course, it remained a fact. 

His mother sighed through her nose, nosing his soft hair comfortingly. He thought it was kind that she was always there, no matter how tedious the subject. Within a few minutes or so, his cries dampened down to mere whimpers, and his mother set him between the sheets of his childhood bed. A kiss on the forehead was a promise of protection, and she was gone.

Mark lay alone at midnight, his mind wandering from one topic to the next. 

He would be over this mountain soon enough.

Shooting up, the final bell rang, footsteps smashing down the hallway of the fine arts wing. The six boys were together once again, discussion ready to be had. 

“So,” Jaemin started, looking around the room. His friends Jeno and Renjun, maybe more than friends, had tagged along for the ride.

Renjun’s small shoulders sagged, ignoring the others as he struggled to focus on his reading.

“Mark, you have some explaining to do.” Jaemin’s sweet tone was almost sickly.

“Mark?”

Said boy was looking off into the corner of the practice room, scenes of the previous nights rolling like a film in his mind.

“Mark.”

Renjun’s stern tone brought him alive, realizing the rest of the boys were staring at him. 

Jaemin reached across the circle, worried eyes and a gentle squeeze on his thigh.

“Are you okay?”

It took a moment for Mark’s mind to take the question in. 

Was he okay? He had encountered something he couldn’t explain, and if he did, he knows well in his heart that his friends would deem him a liar or even worse, a fake.

“Yeah, I just-” He cut himself off, running a sleeve covered hand over his face.

“I’m fine.”

Jisung had apparently gotten up during his moment and bent down, enveloping his troubled friend in a hug. 

Mark leaned forward into the embrace, inhaling Jisung’s cologne and attempting to keep it together. 

Now really wasn’t the best time to break down, everyone was here. Knowing everyone all too well, Jaemin would switch into his worried mother mode, Chenle would get upset, and Jisung wouldn’t speak. 

And yet, a singular tear slipped from his eye. He sniffled, rose from the hug, and looked toward the wall behind the rest of the boys.

“I think I’m just gonna head home.” He replied to no question, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.  
Jaemin scoffed in disbelief, moody as per usual. 

“You’re kidding me. You’re kidding me, aren’t you?” He exclaimed, stepping forward from Renjun and Jeno to grip the front of Mark’s shirt.

“We wait all this time to meet up, and this is what you do? When did you become such a fucking coward?”

With that, the room fell silent. Chenle was tearing up, Jeno couldn’t believe Jaemin had the ability to present so harshly.

Mark ripped away from his grip, glared, and left.

The mansion was quiet when Mark entered, by himself at dusk.

There was nothing in the air, unlike the previous evening he had experienced.

It was like the mansion had perished, rid of the boy he had seen lurking before.

The question of his own sanity and mind lurked when-

A chilled breeze washed through his thin parcel of a jacket, caressing the trimmed hair on the back of his neck.

He could almost feel lips gliding over his ears, slowed breathing just barely audible.

This time around, he didn’t react.

“So you came back, pretty boy.”

Mark spun around to an almost glowing smile coming from the boy, eyebrow raised at the remark.

“Pretty?” 

The boy made a gentle hum of approval, seemingly flitting around Mark.

He hadn’t noticed how the probable spirit’s skin sparkled under the moonlight seeping in from the towering windows. They were still in the lobby of all places

“You’re rather easy on the eyes, Mark,” He almost mumbled, truly and fully checking him out.

Or, at least, Mark thought he was.

“It gets so gloomy around the house, so it’s delightful to have someone like you to come visit.”

“You’re not so, uh,”

Very smooth, Mark.

“Bad yourself?” He flinched a bit at his own questioning words, and the spirit giggled.

“You sound very unsure of yourself, child.”

Mark was about to open his mouth, but turned yet again to see a figure at the top of the ivory staircase. This wasn’t exactly a boy, but a man. Small in stature, silver hair shining. He was draped in a beautiful shawl of sorts, flowing down and defining his figure of power.

Yet, the boy next to him huffed.

“Go back to your room, Ten, leave me alone.”

So they did have names.

Ten, apparently, descended the stairs and made his way over to Mark. Admittedly, the smaller was beautiful, and he let out a small gasp as his jaw was touched. 

Ten had almost cat-like eyes, staring into his own. He gave him a mischievous smile and looked over to the still unnamed boy. Said boy was pouting, arms crossed over his chest. Ten noticed and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be so greedy, Hyuck, we never get company.”

Hyuck? Was that the mystery name?

“Donghyuck, Chittaphon.”

Mark’s head shot over at the timid, sweet sounding voice.

Just how many people were in this place?

“You two leave that poor little one alone, you’re scaring him.” The voice spoke again, coming from a third man walking down the stairs.

This man seemed rather otherworldly. His eyes were round as the moon glistening outside, hair fluffy and gray just as the others, figure lithe and shown through the sleek, unbuttoned blouse he wore. If beauty was a person, then by all terms, it was this being.

Worry shone in the third’s eyes, arms swinging elegantly with his walk as he came striding over to Mark. Carefully, he took the younger’s hands into his own while staring prettily upon him. 

“Hello there, sweetheart, I’m Taeyong,” He kindly introduced himself, strands of hair falling down to his forehead. 

Mark didn’t mean for his face to flush as much as it did, but it grew as sweet of a gesture as Taeyong’s tiny, given smile.

“Have these fools been giving you any trouble?”

Mark eagerly shook his head, but his words came out jumbled.

“I, uh- No, they- I-”

Taeyong’s eyes crinkled as he softly laughed, the melody of Ten’s chiming in as well. If entirely possible, the flush of Mark’s face grew to a ripe strawberry hue. 

Unnoticed by anyone else, Donghyuck sulked the farthest away from the group forming. He sighed, looking over to a spider spinning her web in the corner. It seemed to stop for a moment, eight eyes gazing at him before returning to its handiwork. Well, at least someone noticed he was there. 

“We know he’s pretty, kid, you can just say it.” Ten teased, leaning his body against the wall.

Mark made a noise of disapproval, almost pouting himself.

“Don’t be unkind to our guest, you fiend,” Taeyong scolded, taking Mark’s face between his cool palms, squeezing at his cheeks just a bit and the cold settled his blazing face just barely,

“And what is your name, hm? How did you find us?”

Mark selfishly took a moment to admire the older’s appearance yet again, relishing in the feeling of his hands before responding.

“I’m Mark Lee, and I found this place through research online. I hope I’m not intruding on anything, I just wanted to see if I could catch footage here for a ghost hunting video. This place is apparently like, super haunted and seemed pretty cool.” 

Suddenly, like the weather, the looks on all of their faces changed.

Taeyong seemed sorrowful, Ten a bit angry, and Donghyuck still had that look of a cursed child on his face.

“Sweetheart,” Taeyong paused, looking back at the other two and then to Mark.

“Is that all you’re here for?”

It would be easy for Mark to say yes. Yes and then run out of there, as he knew the look given to him. It was motherly and spoke one word. Disappointment. However, it wasn’t the truth. He was here to see the sulking one.

So, with a shake of his head, Mark told the truth.

“I’m here to see Donghyuck.”

Almost instantly, the trance in the room snapped. 

Taeyong smiled his pretty smile and Ten seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. In the corner, Donghyuck brightened.

“That’s very nice to hear, Mark,” The way Taeyong spoke his name caused his heart to flutter a bit.

“We’ll leave you to talk, then. You’re welcome here anytime.” 

With that, Taeyong let his face go and made his way to Donghyuck, pressing an ever so soft kiss to his forehead and whispering something into his ear. After, he went to Ten, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to lead him up the stairs and back to wherever they were resting before.

Mark was lost in the way they walked, only to be brought back up by Donghyuck’s voice.

“You really came back to see me?”

He seemed almost shy now, eyes cast just past Mark’s face and slim fingers playing with one another to help the anxiety that almost wobbled his voice.

Nodding, Mark smiled as the smaller approached him.

“Yeah, I did. I’m having some problems with my friends.”

“Oh, you mean the ones I scared into finding you?” There was the sass back in his tone, hand resting on a cocked hip. 

Sheepishly, Mark nodded and continued,

“I’ve been up for days thinking about what happened. You appeared, we talked, and suddenly you were just gone.”

The obvious answer to the question hung in the air, but remained untouched.

Moving forward, Donghyuck placed his hand in the air, gesturing with his head for Mark to raise his as well. 

Mark raised his hand and Donghyuck connected them, fingers to palm. Donghyuck’s skin was cold, just as Taeyong’s.

Donghyuck pulled away, gesturing again for Mark to make the move to connect them instead.

He did, and-

His hand went through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback on the previous chapter. I hope you enjoy this one as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Jaemin was about to throw hands with a demon, and that's a fact. Please save Jisung.


End file.
